Let Sleeping Babes Lie
by Elea24
Summary: A fluffy piece about Imrahil and his wife shortly after the birth of Lothiriel.


**Let Sleeping Babes Lie**

Caladwen lay restlessly awake in bed staring up at the canopy. The rich embroidery was impossible to see in the dim light coming through the windows. Realising that sleep was unattainable, she pushed away the covers, found her slippers and quietly padded across the floor into the adjoining room.

Without a sound Caladwen walked over to where the cradle stood by the window. Peering in she could just make out the small up and down chest movements of the little figure. Relief flooded through her as she fondly looked upon her sleeping babe. She was perhaps too cautious, but children were always at risk at such a young age.

So engrossed was she in watching her child, she did not notice another presence in the room until warm hands settled on her shoulders from behind.

"If the babe sleeps, you should be doing the same," her husband whispered. "I imagine we only have another hour or two before she will wish to make her presence known again."

"I know, I was just…checking. I realise I'm being foolish but I can't help it."

"You are not foolish at all, but you are tired. I would prefer you to get as much sleep as you can," Imrahil said gently. "Besides," his lips brushed her ear, "the bed is cold without you in it."

A faint tremor ran down Caladwen's body at the contact. "At least I do not check as often as I did with Elphir," she laughed softly. "I'm sure I must have driven you half mad during that time."

"Well, checking to see if he was breathing every ten minutes _was_ perhaps a little overcautious," he conceded. "But you were a new mother. It is only natural that you were anxious." He removed his hands from her shoulders and wrapped them around her waist, pulling her back gently against his chest.

"As she is the fourth," Caladwen nodded towards the sleeping child, "I can no longer claim that excuse."

"No excuse is needed for wanting to protect your children," he said matter-of-factly, planting a brief kiss on the top of her head. "As far as I am concerned, your mothering skills are beyond reproach."

Caladwen put her arms over his and snuggled closer, sighing softly. "How is it you always know exactly the right thing to say?"

"Long years of schooling in diplomacy no doubt," he responded ruefully as he feathered butterfly kisses on her exposed neck.

A soft moan escaped Caladwen's lips as she revelled in the sensation. "No doubt."

Their daughter wriggled in the cradle, still sound asleep, her little arms flailing around briefly before they came to settle beside her head. Mother and father watched every movement with rapped attention.

"She is absolutely darling, isn't she?"

"Absolutely," Imrahil agreed, thoroughly biased in his opinion. "She charms everyone who meets her. Her brothers already adore her and even my father is completely taken in by her smiles. He rarely pays much attention to children until they can at least talk."

"I am glad that she has your eyes," Caladwen mused.

"My eyes? You, who have eyes of the deepest, richest, loveliest blue, are glad that our daughter has my ordinary and commonplace grey eyes?" He shook his head in disbelief.

"Grey may be a common colour, Imrahil, but there is nothing ordinary about the ones you bestowed on our daughter. They are the colour of moonlight shimmering on water. They were one of the things I noticed first about you."

"Indeed?" Imrahil buried his head in the soft chestnut waves of her hair and chuckled gently. Vibrations from his laughter ran down her spine in a delightful tingling sensation. Perhaps it would be best to return to bed she thought, smiling to herself.

"My eyes or no, in every other way she is the image of her mother. Exactly as I had hoped. I decided when we married that if we had a daughter I wanted her to look just like you."

"It took you fourteen years to give me a daughter," she teased. "Why so long a wait?" She turned around in his arms and smiled up at him, amusement tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"You must forgive me, my dear," he mocked lightly. "I am a man in my forties now. My ability to sire children is no doubt lesser than it was. I am no longer a virile youth."

"Are you not?" Caladwen asked. Her voice low and husky; her eyes sparkling with mischief. She tilted her head to whisper teasingly in his ear. "That is not the impression I received last night." She slowly moved her head back so that she could see his reaction but as her mouth brushed passed his chin, Imrahil swiftly moved to catch her lips with own. The kiss was tantalising, provocative and yet infinitely tender. Strong arms tightened around her waist, pulling her into the curve of his body. Heat pooled in her stomach as she rubbed herself against him enticingly, exulting in the obvious evidence of his desire.

"Bed?" Imrahil breathed raggedly against her mouth.

Perhaps sensing that she was no longer the focus of her parents' attention, their daughter chose that moment to wake and loudly vocalise her displeasure.

Imrahil sighed heavily, reluctantly dropping his arms to his sides as his wife pulled away from him.

"Hush, Lothίriel. It is alright," Caladwen crooned sweetly as she gently held the wailing babe to her shoulder. "Mama is here. It is alright."

Imrahil stood mesmerised. The moon in the sky was high and full that night, bathing the room in a silvery light. Standing sideways on to the window, one side of Caladwen's form was highlighted, giving her skin a pearlescent glow. The shift she wore was made of a filmy material that just concealed enough of her slender figure to spark a craving to see more. Her eyes were closed, her face held in an expression of blissful contentment as she revelled in the smell of the downy head, the feel of the soft skin against her cheek and the weight of the little babe in her arms. Even in the dim light Imrahil could see that her cheeks were still delightfully flushed, her lips still reddened from his kiss. The hem on her skirt swished slowly around her ankles as she rocked the quieting child in her arms. His child –_their_ child. Even after fourteen years of marriage Imrahil still found it hard to believe that this beautiful, compassionate, enchanting woman was his wife. The mother of his children. The lady of his heart.

He walked over to her slowly, committing every last detail of her appearance to memory. Bending his head to kiss her brow, he gently stroked his little daughter's head with his fingertips. Caladwen looked up at him apologetically. "I am sorry, dearest. You should return to bed. There is no reason for both of us to miss out on sleep."

Imrahil shook his head. "Sleep will be impossible with images of you consuming my thoughts. I will return to bed, but I shall wait for you to join me," he promised.

A short while later Caladwen quietly returned to her bedchamber. Sitting on the edge of the bed she gazed lovingly at her handsome husband. Strong, noble, honourable, compassionate, loving...and fast asleep.

* * *

Many thanks to NancyBrooke for the beta.


End file.
